Today we’re going to meet the amazing JULIE GILBERT, author of The Lei Crime World Series novel, Money Makes it Deadlier.

She’s so awesome she wrote not just one Lei Crime series stories but TWO! To check out her latest book, click the link: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B012UMA8AW/ref=pe_609920_146996100_em_ti

OR

Comment here to enter the draw to win a FREE copy!

Keep reading to see just how fabulous JULIE GILBERT is! I mean, she answered ALL my STUPID QUESTIONS!!!

Yeah, baby! It’s Tiki Time!

1. What’s your favorite cocktail? I’ll have the cabana boys whip one up for you while I ask you some stupid questions. After one of their creations the questions won’t seem silly at all!

I don’t drink. This isn’t a moral, high-handedness thing. I physically can’t handle alcohol. Tried once and fainted. End of experimental drinking phase of life. I’ll have a root beer. That’s about as close to beer as I can get.

2. Wow. I think the cabana boys just pouted! They love mixing drinks… Anyway, what is the weirdest thing you ever Googled?

I got a little self-conscious Googling “How long does it take a gunshot wound to heal?” Hands down writing is the cause for the weirdest Google searches I’ve done. But this round, it’s typically been confined to fun stuff to do in Hawaii and where the various branches of Bank of Hawaii are located. Boring, I know, I’m sorry. I’m too normal. It’s a character flaw.

3. Hmm… Well let me ask, do you write naked?

Can’t say that ever crossed my mind. I suppose it could be a freeing way to express oneself, but I don’t generally have writer’s block issues that would require such drastic measures. Typically, I write in the basement, so if anything, I’m wearing more clothes while writing.

4. Your Lei Crime story focuses on Marcella Scott. What are her five favorite books of all time and do you think she gets the chance to read much?

You’ll have to ask Toby Neal for a more definitive answer, but I imagine Marcella being an eclectic reader. She probably doesn’t have much time for it, but I’m guessing there would be some non-fiction how-to’s, a few trashy romances, and a smattering of thrillers. If she goes for the occasional mystery, I’m thinking deep, psychological twisty ones over cozy. Unfortunately, I don’t see her gravitate too much to science fiction and fantasy, though there probably is a rare exception. She’s probably the happy ending sort of girl, but she’s not afraid to wade through some drama to get there. Given her job though, I don’t think she does too much curling up on the couch with tea and a good read. She’d rather be making stories than taking them in.

My speculation: (no particular order)

1. Pride, Prejudice, and Zombies by Seth Graham Smith and Jane Austen – there’s an exception to every rule. I think Marcella would enjoy the oddball nature of this book.

2. Outlaw Princess by Nancy Springer – Since I don’t think Marcella’s much of a reader these days, her favorites will gravitate toward being from childhood. She’d enjoy the girl-power, stick up for what you believe messages that permeate this series.

3. Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys Mysteries – We know very early Marcella decides to become an FBI agent. The “always get the bad guys” nature of the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys Mystery series would definitely appeal to her.

4. The Little Mouse, The Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear – Hey, I did say she probably wasn’t much of a reader, but she probably has a few childhood favorites clinging to her soul.

5. Are You My Mother? – See reasoning for #4.

5. I love these answers! And now I have some new titles to explore! Okay, last question. You’re stuck on a deserted island after a three hour tour that goes awry. Name six people alive or dead that you’d like to be marooned with…and your fantasy castaway meal. Thanks!

Do they have to be real people? I mean I think MacGyver would be a great guy to have around in a crisis.

Assuming they have to be real, I’d choose Tricia Nolfi, Toby Neal, Janet Oakley, Mary Doyle, Corinne O’Flynn, and Russell Blake. If I’m gonna die on an island somewhere, I better go down being entertained. Seriously, writers and writer’s assistants would be great to be marooned with. They’ve got very creative, inventive, and often organized minds. Not sure about the wisdom of choosing murder mystery writers, but hey, they can probably branch out to use the creativity productively in non-murderous ways.

Fantasy meal, roasted pork. If we’ve got enough fuel to make a fire that can roast a pig, we can send up one heck of a smoke signal.

When college junior Alana Adams catches her boyfriend passionately kissing another woman, she promptly dumps Nathan and turns to her best friend, Michael, for advice and emotional support.

At first, Nathan apologizes and showers Alana with gifts in an effort to win her back. He tries to get her to see they belong together, but when his efforts fail, he concludes the real problem in their relationship must be her best friend.

As Alana’s rejection further sinks in, Nathan realizes there’s only one solution to their problem: kill Michael Stevens.

Excerpt from Never Again

Off to his left, a car started. It didn’t sound particularly loud, but he’d just spent the day tinkering with cars. He knew one when he heard it. He was surprised to be the only one leaving at this hour. People should be rushing home to put the finishing touches on dinner.

Adjusting the grip on his gym bag, Michael checked around and stepped off the curb to head toward his car. The full parking lot testified to the gym’s popularity. It even boasted a nice mix of fancy and functional cars.

An engine revved.

The rumbling roar told him something was hurtling his way fast.

Pivoting like he was spinning around a basketball defender, Michael crouched low, then rose and tossed his bag at the oncoming car.

The car’s headlights blazed to life, blinding him.

He dove between two parked cars, just as the aggressive car swerved away from his bag.

The car squealed to a halt, hesitated, then barreled on its way.

Needs brake pads.

The diagnosis came automatically as questions filled Michael.

Who was that? What just happened? Was it deliberate? Should I tell somebody?

Technically, the only casualty was his gym bag and the dirty clothes inside. They lay smeared across two car-lengths of pavement, soaking wet and torn to shreds. More angry than shaken, Michael gathered the wreckage and stuffed it into the large garbage can next to the gym door. Too weary and annoyed to report anything, he climbed in his car and drove to a sporting goods store to replace the gym bag he had just sacrificed.

Money can buy many things, but can it purchase a permanent solution to divorce?

Martin Cantrell would like to know the answer to that question. He has money, respect, and power, but he also has a monthly alimony payment that’s making him miserable. When a friend offers to deal with the “ex” problem for a fee, he can hardly say no. Time is of the essence. The life insurance policy on his ex-wife expires in less than two months.

Unaware of the plans set in motion, Special Agent Marcella Scott goes about her business as usual, only now, she finally has an excuse to dress up on the job. She’s been asked to go undercover to check out some banks. One of the branches just happens to be managed by Martin Cantrell’s ex-wife.

What’s an agent to do when a perfectly peaceful morning turns into a hostage-taking standoff?

Excerpt from Money Makes it Deadlier:

Her personal cell phone beeped from the center cup holder where she’d thrown it hours ago at the start of this hurry-up-and-wait exercise. Seeing that the caller ID said Mom, she grunted and took the last bobby pin out of her mouth to tell Rogers to let it go to voicemail.

Too late.

“Hello, Mrs. Scatalina,” Mattgreeted, ignoring a frustrated stare from Marcella. “Why yes it is a fine day here, ma’am. It usually is in Hawaii. No. She’s right here, but I’m afraid y’all might get cut off. We may have to move at a moment’s notice. All right, will do, ma’am. Here she is.”

Even as Marcella’s eyes widened in alarm, Matt triumphantly stabbed the button to place the call on speaker.

Her mother’s excitable voice filled the car. “’Cella! Why you no call? Your papa and I, we wait days to hear from our baby and no calls!”

“Hi, Ma,” Marcella said, trying to rub away a tension headache. She reached for the volume button since conversations with her mother tended toward the loud side. “I meant to call yesterday.”

And the day before. There just wasn’t much to say. And I didn’t—

“What you think more important than family?” The question held the warning signs of a high-strung Italian mama about to launch into a well-loved lecture.

Suppressing a sigh, Marcella weighed the options of protesting her innocence and settling in for the scolding. Whenever her mother’s accent thickened this much, she knew she was in for it.

“You have boyfriend? That only good reason a girl have to forget to call her mama.”

Matt’s face twisted as he tried to keep from laughing aloud.

“What? No!” Marcella sat up straighter, shocked into better posture. “Ma, I don’t want a boyfriend. I have a job, a very busy one. I don’t—”

“Tut. You must make time for such things, ’Cella! You late twenties, mi amore. Make time for a nice boy to sweep you off your feet and …”

Where is that blasted warrant?

“Mattie!”

The laugh lines disappeared from Matt’s face, and Marcella was pleased to note he too straightened in his seat.

“Yes, Mrs. Scatalina?”

“You must help my ’Cella. She needs a man! Hawaii beautiful place.Is not right her being alone there!”

“Oh, I don’t think Marcella needs any help from me, ma’am. It’s all I can do to keep the wrong sorts at bay around here.”

“Not yet.” Marcella’s eyes dared him to question how she handled the conversation. “But it’ll be here any second. I can feel it.”

“Did you just lie to your ma?”

“Not exactly. We are working.”

Episode III: Revenge Makes it Sweeter (Coming Sept. 2015)

Revenge is a lot of work.

When the original plan for his ex-wife goes awry, Martin Cantrell turns his mind toward a sweeter revenge: stealing their daughter’s affections. But he’s not the only one plotting, and his enemies are better at keeping to the shadows.

Meanwhile, Special Agent Marcella Scott gets a late night summons to the hospital to speak with a gunshot victim. She knows to expect almost anything, yet he still surprises her.

“Agent, if I die, save the girl.”

The girl turns out to be Katelyn Cantrell. Marcella’s not the only one protecting her, and the other person has no problem killing to obtain their goals.

Can Marcella prevent an assassination and catch a killer?

Excerpt from Revenge Makes it Sweeter

Squaring her shoulders, Marcella stepped into the room and found herself staring at a stranger. That set her off balance a moment, but she didn’t have much time to waste. Taking out her badge and a digital recorder, she held them up so the man could see both.

“I’m Special Agent Marcella Scott, FBI. You asked to see me. May I record the conversation?”

Permission granted, Marcella engaged the recorder and stowed her ID badge in her purse.

“We don’t have much time, so tell me what you can. Start with who you are and why you asked to see me. Do I know you?”

“No.”

The recorder had decent pickup, but Marcella wanted to help it all she could. She held the recorder as close to his lips as she dared.

“My name is Max Nicholson. I’m a Fixer.” He paused like he expected her to ask about that. Or maybe he just needed to take a few labored breaths.

“Go on.” Marcella really wanted to know what a Fixer did, but that would have to wait. She guessed he had more important things to tell her than definitions.

“Fixers take care of rich people’s problems.” Max’s dark eyes grew stony with pain and anger. His next words almost made Marcella drop the recorder on him. “I was hired by Martin Cantrell to kill his wife.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Marcella whispered the question like speaking too loudly would break a spell.

“I’m dying.” He groaned weakly. “Taking … him … with me.”

“I see. Do you have any proof?” Marcella leaned even closer, eager for an answer. His recorded testimony would go far, but it was far from binding.

Max nodded but his eyes grew unfocused.

“Storage locker.Kuhio Beach Park.Key … in my truck.”

“Okay, Max. I’ll get them. Do I have your permission to enter your truck and storage locker?”

“Yes.”

“Time’s up, agent,” barked Dr. Davy.

Marcella moved to turn off the recorder but a sharp look from Max stopped her.

“Agent, if I die, save the girl.”

“What girl?”

Marcella’s question went unanswered. Max’s energy was completely spent, and Dr. Davy looked ready to perform surgery or commit murder if she was delayed much longer.

“I’ll be in the waiting room until I review my notes. I’ll leave my cell number with the front desk. And here’s my card.” Marcella placed her card on the end table next to Max’s head. “Call me if anything changes.”

She didn’t want to say “if he dies” but she had a bad feeling about Max’s chance of survival.